


Changing Leaves

by kingslayre (killuazcldyck)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Hogwarts, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-05
Updated: 2015-06-05
Packaged: 2018-04-03 00:03:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4078954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/killuazcldyck/pseuds/kingslayre
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's just after the War, and Harry and his friends are heading back to Hogwarts to finish their education. There's something comforting about going back to the place where it all started, and where it all ended. But perhaps it won't end just yet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Changing Leaves

**Author's Note:**

> *The teen rating is for swearing.*  
> I've inserted a very small description of violence and NSFW-ness, however, this piece was just a drabble, and the entirety is focused on pre-slash. All fluff and friendship-building. Don't read if you're looking solely for slash. :) Otherwise, I hope you enjoy it! It's literally one conversation between Harry and Draco, but I enjoyed writing it; I hope you enjoy reading it! :)

How strange it felt to be going back to school, back to where everything happened last year … _flashes of green light, bodies flying through the air, blood splashed against the walls … children crying, people screaming. Mutilated bodies lying helplessly on the floor as friends and siblings threw themselves protectively over them_ … Harry could not shake these images out of his head.

* * *

  _Why would anyone choose to go back there willingly to study?_ Harry wondered, shocked at himself as he found himself boarding the Hogwarts Express for the last time. He was one of the few eighth year students who was choosing to go back to Hogwarts to finish their seventh year. But then it hit him; people were going back to Hogwarts this year for the same reason that he, Harry, was: to complete their education, and to be with the people who all experienced the trauma last year. It was some kind of a silver lining to going back to the remnants of the war – that they were all in this together, and that they all had each other, despite what had happened. It was a much different atmosphere on the train this morning than it had been in the past years; instead of its usual hustle and bustle, Harry noticed that the activities at Platform Nine and Three Quarters had been fairly subdued. Students were not as talkative, and even the pets weren’t as loud as usual. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny found a compartment, before Luna and Neville joined them. There wasn’t much conversation, but there didn’t need to be; Harry was grateful that no one tried to force it.

They were just passing the hills of countryside England playing Exploding Snap when Harry noticed an all-too familiar face stop at the compartment window. Draco certainly looked quite alone without his … friends, Harry realised with a sudden pang. He looked paler than usual, and his face was much thinner. The perfectly groomed blonde hair Harry was used to seeing was tussled and growing out; a very unMalfoy-like characteristic. Harry was filled with an unusual sadness then, as the blonde-haired boy locked eyes with Harry for a second. Draco looked lost, but he regained his composure and walked on, although without his usual swagger. Harry couldn’t help but wonder where Draco was going, and if he had any friends in his compartment.

‘Be right back, guys,’ said Harry suddenly and he stood up, leaving his rather surprised friends. He noticed that Ginny’s eyes lingered after him curiously, but chose to ignore her gaze as he left the compartment. Harry looked up once to see a blonde head disappear behind a compartment door some five doors down, so he followed suit, feeling light on his feet. Harry peered into Draco’s compartment and was strangely relieved when he noticed that Draco was sitting by himself.

‘Do you mind?’ asked Harry, as he slid open the door. Draco didn’t say anything, but merely raised his eyebrows, and offered the seat opposite him. _Fuck, I haven’t really thought this through. What the hell do I say to him? How are your parents? How’s Azkaban for them? Are you looking forward to going back to the place where you lost your friends and saw so many innocent lives being taken by someone you used to work for?_ Harry thought numbly to himself as he sat himself down opposite his ex-nemesis.

‘You can ask the questions, if you want, Potter, I don’t really mind,’ Draco said monotonously, and Harry understood then that Draco had truly changed since the war. Draco had lost everything: his status and power (which meant so much to him), his friends (both through battle and abandonment), his parents (the people he looked up to the most were now thrown in jail with no means of contacting him other than via mail), and it almost made Harry miss the old Draco Malfoy. So, instead of playing dumb, Harry dived straight into what was bothering him.

‘How are you, Malfoy? Really?’ Draco shrugged in response, and Harry felt an overwhelmingly strong sense of pity for the boy, even though he knew that Draco didn’t want it.

‘Nothing too unexpected. Had this coming for me since sixth year, I suppose,’ Draco muttered, gazing out the window.

‘I’m … I never really thanked you for saving my ass at Malfoy Manor. And your mother … she really did save me in the Forest,’ Harry told him, as though feeling the need to be entirely honest with Draco. He found that surprising, because he knew, on some level, that he did not owe Malfoy anything.

‘Thanks,’ Draco answered back, still not looking at Harry. ‘And … same goes to you,’ Draco said quickly, and his eyes quickly flickered to Harry before going back to the window again.

‘Sorry about Crabbe,’ said Harry somewhat lamely after an awkward silence.

‘Really?’ Draco asked, his gaze now fully on Harry. Harry had never noticed how Draco’s eyes looked like the calm before a storm; they were a beautiful grey colour that shone in the light, and Harry was startled that he hadn’t really noticed before.

‘Yeah … I mean, he didn’t really know what he was doing,’ murmured Harry softly. Draco let out a short, mirthless laugh.

‘Yeah … well, he knew that it was a murder weapon. It’s like feeling sorry for a ten year old kid who shot himself accidentally with a gun. Maybe he didn’t know exactly what he was doing and surely it was an accident, but it’s his own fault for playing with the gun when he knew it could kill someone. The difference is, Crabbe was seventeen years old, not some kid.’ Draco had never said so much in front of Harry before without insulting him or his friends, so Harry was doubly surprised when Draco continued. ‘Him and Goyle were always … duds, but loyal duds nonetheless. But they were incredibly stupid, and could never think for themselves. I suppose it didn’t really surprise me when Crabbe let off the Fiendfyre and didn’t know how to stop it.’ Draco stopped talking, and resumed looking out the window, looking rather pensive and lost in thought. The two of them sat in silence, Harry observing Draco, realising how odd this might have looked, but continued to do so anyway. Draco had aged a lifetime in the past few months – but then again, so had everyone else.

Harry was hit by a sudden nostalgic moment, to this time, but seven years ago, when Draco had first offered to be Harry’s friend. What would have happened if Harry had shook Draco’s hand? What if Harry had been sorted into Slytherin house? What if Harry and Draco had become good friends? A whole bunch of other “ _What if_ ” scenarios clouded Harry’s mind, and he was surprised when he conjured up a rather inappropriate “ _What if_ ” image that involved Draco’s bed, a Slytherin tie, and a breathtaking blonde boy straddling him. As though on cue (thankfully), the trolley lady knocked on their carriage door at that point. Leaping in a manner that was far too enthusiastic, Harry busied himself with various sweets before sitting back down again, amidst Draco’s staring. Cursing his inability to hide his blushing, Harry feigned a violent coughing fit after consuming a Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Bean before taking off his sweater and placing it nonchalantly as possible around his crotch, feeling utterly exhausted at jumping around Draco like this _._ _It was never this awkward or weird with Ginny ... or Cho, even. But I suppose I wasn’t their arch-nemesis for seven years, either_ , Harry thought rather ruefully.

‘Erm ... you want a jellybean? Careful of the greenish yellow one, though. That’s a new flavour, I’m pretty sure. It’s disgusting,’ Harry offered the box of jellybeans to Draco in a brave attempt to hide his embarrassment. Draco shook his head, smiling. _God, he’s beautiful when he smiles_ , the thought struck Harry like lightning, and he felt as though he had been winded. _Fuck, fuck, fuckitty fuck fuck._

‘I think I can tell the wrong sort for myself, thanks,’ Draco said, chuckling. Harry snorted in laughter, unable to help himself. And just like that, somehow, seven years of hatred, anger, jealousy, and angst subsided, and although Harry knew they had a long way to go until they could be considered friends, there was some part of him that knew that this year would not be as terrible as he feared.


End file.
